Woozy
by jilllovesshakespeare
Summary: Cowritten with Mikaia. Might seem cliche, but look closer and you'll see it really isn't. Please R&R! Chapter 6 now up Chapter 5 edited
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, neither of us is Dick Wolf. But hot diggity damn, do we wish we were.

A/N: Cowritten with Mikaia. Olivia will seem OOC, but believe us, there's a reason. And it's totally intentional. Please R&R. We can only continue writing if we have the input of our readers. Constructive comments are appreciated, and we certainly are not strongly opposed to praise. :D Enjoy!

* * *

"Hey Liv, you okay? You don't look too good."

"Wha- Oh, no, I'm okay."

"You sure?"

"I'm fine," Olivia insisted, rubbing her aching head. Her partner was looking at her with concern. "Just too little sleep, you know how it is."

"Right…" He didn't look convinced.

"I'm _fine_. Come on, we have work to do." In reality, she was far from fine. In reality, she was exhausted -more so than usual- and her head pounded relentlessly. She stood, only to find herself seated again, Elliot gripping her elbow to steady her.

"You're not okay, why don't you go home. You want me to drive you?"

"I said I'm fine." Detective Benson shook off her partner, his grip and his concern.

* * *

The phone rang.

"Yeah?"

"Olivia?" said a raspy tenor she didn't recognize. "Hey, it's me."

_What the hell…?_ Olivia wondered. _Is this some old friend I'm supposed to remember?_ Stalling, she said, "Oh, hi! How've you been?"

"Pretty good. I've missed you."

_Huh?_ The voice was sounding vaguely familiar.

"When can I see you again?" the man continued.

Just as she was becoming more confused than ever, Olivia suddenly remembered.

It had been a trying day. Another trying day. Detective Benson sipped the beer in her hand.

"Hey, can I buy you another drink?" a forgettable-looking man propositioned.

"Thanks, I'm good." Olivia replied, turning away. She could predict exactly how it would have played out. The same way it always did. They would be having a good time, until the inevitable question arose. "So, what do you do for a living?" That was where it ended, where it always ended.

"Can I get another?" The bartender filled her glass. Olivia's thoughts returned to what could laughably be called her "love life." The last failed date had taken place a few months ago. Recently she hadn't tried; she'd been too involved in work and, she realized now, had given up. "Another beer." After this she would go home, home to an empty apartment. The thought of going home again, alone, suddenly became unbearable.

Finishing her drink, she gazed around the bar for the man from before. Finding his forgettable face, she started over.

* * *

Olivia was horrified. How could she have forgotten what had happened? Had she had that much to drink? She didn't remember waking up with the guy. Just the excruciating headache that had followed.

"I know it's been a few weeks," the man continued. God, did she even know his name? "I'm so sorry; I was on a business trip. That's why I couldn't stay the night. When did you say I could see you again?"

"I'm sorry, they're paging me. I've got to go to work."

"Wait—what do you do for a living?"

Olivia hung up.

She just wanted to forget that this had ever happened. She'd just never talk to this guy again, block everything from her memory. He would have been gone anyway once he knew about her job.

A feeling of shame swept over Olivia. It had been a long time since she'd done something this reckless and irresponsible. _Don't think about it anymore. It's over, and it's not gonna happen again. I'll just go to bed; things always look better in the morning._

* * *

The next morning, the outlook had not improved from Olivia's point of view over the toilet in the squadroom, where she was heaving up the contents of her stomach. Groaning, she staggered to her feet, moved over to the sink, rinsed her mouth and washed her face, which looked ashen in the mirror. Turning, her stomach lurching, she pushed open the restroom door and stepped out into the main section of the Special Victims Unit squadroom.

"Benson, in my office now!" Captain Cragen barked. Woozily, Detective Benson made her way into Cragen's office.

"What's up?"

"You need to take some time off. You can't work this hard, non-stop, without it taking its toll."

"I don't need…" To Olivia's surprise and Cragen's utter astonishment, she was stifling tears. Cragen's mouth opened, as if he was about to say something, but just stopped halfway. He stared, agape.

Gaining composure, Cragen offered his detective a seat and a box of tissues.

"I'm sorry," Olivia sobbed, "I don't know what's wrong with me." Seeing the usually tough detective in such a vulnerable state was shocking. Olivia was one of the guys, and seeing her blubbering in his office was no different from seeing one of her male counterparts doing the same.

Olivia regained control of herself. Cragen leaned forward and said, very gently, "Is something bothering you?"

"No! I think I've just been working too hard," Olivia said, trying to make herself believe it. "You're right; I need some time off."

Cragen put his hand on her shoulder. "Go home, Olivia."

On her way out, Elliot stopped her. "Where are you going?"

"Home. I'm taking some time off."

"That's probably best. Go home, rest. You'll feel better." Olivia nodded. Trying to take a step, her head spun and she staggered dizzily, inwardly cursing at this show of weakness in front of her partner, who had caught her elbow again.

"Something's up. Tell me what's going on."

"It's just overwork. I told you before, I'm fine. I just need some rest."

"I'm driving you home. Don't argue."

* * *

So, what did you think? Love it? Hate it? Display total apathy towards it? We want to know! So click that button and tell us what you think! More chapters to come, as long as our readers review! Toodles! 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: We would like to thank all who reviewed. Really, guys, we really really really appreciate it. So we dedicate this next chapter to our reviewers. We heart you!

The chain of events may seem bizarre, but we think if you really think about it, it makes sense what happens and why, and how the characters respond.

Enjoy!

* * *

"So, Liv, you want to tell me what's up?" Elliot said from his place behind the wheel. 

"Really, I don't know. I've just been—off."

Elliot cast her a skeptical look.

"I'm sure it's nothing. You've got enough to worry about—I'll be fine. I'll be back in a few days," Olivia assured him.

* * *

Back at her apartment, Olivia sat on the couch and wondered what was wrong with her. She was exhausted nearly all of the time, but now she had this overwhelming and constant fatigue. She'd worked cases for three days straight without sleep before, but she hadn't done that recently. And she never felt _this_ bad afterwards. Maybe Elliot was right. Something was up. The memory she'd been blocking was back along with a terrifying revelation. _Oh my God. It's not possible. I'm always careful. Always. Oh God, careful's not _always _enough. _

* * *

Olivia stared, expressionless, at the pregnancy test. The phone rang, thrusting her back into reality, the last place she wanted to be at the moment. She ignored it: if it was anyone from work, they would have called her cell. It would go away eventually. 

Eventually came, and it didn't go away. The phone kept ringing until Olivia felt that even if it stopped, she would still hear it in her head. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, she answered.

"Hello?"

"Olivia?"

Olivia froze. It was the guy. The forgettable guy who wouldn't, and now couldn't, be forgotten. What could she say to him? A thought came into her mind.

"Uh, hi. Listen, I know this is gonna sound a little weird, but…that night, do you remember…did we use anything?"

"Oh, you mean…" he sounded surprised. "Of course."

Olivia was momentarily relieved. At least she had remembered that, so she could be a victim of a small statistic. The precaution that didn't work. At least it wasn't on her.

She shuddered with the realization that it didn't matter. It _was _without a doubt 'on her,' because no excuse could make this go away. It was on her because she had to deal with it.

"Olivia, are you alright?" She slammed the phone down. No. She was not alright. She knew what she had to do. She called the clinic.

As soon as Olivia hung up the phone, it rang. Tired in every sense of the word, and sick not only to her stomach, but of the damn phone ringing, she answered.

"Yeah?"

"Look, have I done something? I'd really like to see you again." His concern seemed genuine, but she didn't even know his name. _Wait…John? Joe? Jerry? No…Jim. That was it. Jim…Orwell? Olsen? Orbach? Owens! Jim Owens._ "Do you want to get together sometime?" he was saying. "For coffee, maybe?"

_Of course not. This was over; it was being taken care of. She wouldn't let anything this guy felt get in the way of her decision. She barely knew him; she certainly felt no obligation to keep from damaging his feelings._

"Look, Olivia," Jim Owens was saying, "I know you're probably busy, but I'm flexible. We can meet whenever you want—if you do want to meet, that is."

_Did she? Of course she didn't. But could she really do this without his even knowing what had happened? She would just meet him once, find out that he was just like the rest of them, and then she would have no regrets and a clear conscience._

"Sure."

* * *

"Olivia? What are you doing here?" Elliot eyed her suspiciously. 

"Oh, it turns out I didn't need a few days. I'm better." Olivia smiled brightly. Her reassuring smile did little to reassure her partner. He raised his eyebrows.

"Okay, well we found something out about our perp—"

"I'll be right back. Hang on." Elliot watched as his partner made a dash in the direction of the bathroom.

* * *

Everyone else had left. Elliot had no one to go home to, and Olivia didn't want to go home. They sat at their desks, silently finishing paperwork. Finally, Olivia sighed as she stood up to go. Elliot rose and walked over to her. Gently, he put his hand on her shoulder. 

"Do you wanna talk?" He watched her face closely. She looked away.

"Really, I'm fine. Everything's taken care of."

Elliot paused. "Who's the father, Liv?"

Olivia's stomach dropped two floors.

"What?" she said. Elliot looked her in the eye. "Do you think everyone knows?"

He simply looked at her. She sighed heavily, wearily. "I thought I was protected, but…"

He gave a small, ironic smile. "Trust me, I know. So what are you gonna do?"

"I called the clinic."

He nodded. "Have you talked to the father?"

She hesitated. "Well…he called me. He wants to go out for coffee."

"Did you tell him?"

"No."

"Are you planning to?"

"No. I just want this to be over. I barely know the guy…" she stopped, realizing how this sounded.

"Are you gonna meet him?"

His partner looked at the ground. He knew he was asking too many questions. Poor Olivia. He knew she just wanted to get on with her life. She wanted the problem not to be there. But it was, and Elliot knew all too well how that felt. Olivia was pregnant. Elliot sensed her need for comfort, despite how hard she was fighting it. He put out his arms and she stepped into a hug.

* * *

Final note: Hope you enjoyed the latest installment. We'll try to have the next chapter up as soon as we can! All our love! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! 

-Ella and Jill


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: We're back with chapter three! Did you miss us? Thanks for all the kind reviews; again, it's really appreciated. Hopefully any confusion about anything will come clear. Enjoy!

"Hi! How are you?" Jim Owens greeted Olivia, as he stood up from his chair. He kissed her cheek and eased back down, as she took the seat across from him.

"I'm...alright, how are you?"

"I'm good. Just glad we were finally able to get together. Same place, same time, and no phone tag. Seems too good to be true."

Olivia smiled, neglecting to mention that he had been the only one playing "phone tag."

"Well, I know that last time we met we really didn't get a chance to, uh, talk much--" he was grinning at her, and she couldn't resist grinning back (although not without a hint of a blush), especially because he was right. "—so…tell me about yourself. Why don't we start with what you do for a living?"

Well…she might as well get it over with. This was the part where she'd be off the hook.

"I'm a police detective. I investigate…sex crimes." She watched his face, not knowing why she did. Holding out a desperate hope? Nah…she'd been through this too many times.

His gray eyes watched her intently. "Must be a tough job."

_That_ was a new response. Or maybe it wasn't the response that was new, but the tone in his voice as he said it. Not distant, not _too_ interested, but sincere. Just…sincere.

"Yeah…yeah, it is," she muttered, disarmed by his reaction. "So…what do you do?"

"I'm in business. I co-own an Italian restaurant."

"Oh, are you Italian?"

"Nah, that's my friend. His idea, I just went along for the ride. Turns out I enjoyed the ride and got really active in it. I mostly handle atmosphere, customer satisfaction and whatnot. I guess that sounds pretty boring compared to your job."

She smiled humorlessly. "Not really."

He quickly changed the subject.

Vulnerable, for the first time with a man since she'd taken this job, Olivia didn't know how to react. She felt a wave of nausea, reminding her of her present situation. Without thinking, she laid her head on her arms, which were resting atop the table.

"Olivia?" Jim looked alarmed.

There was no avoiding it now. It was the perfect moment, but she wasn't sure she could bring herself to do it.

"Jim, look, there's no easy way to tell you this."

"Are you okay? Do you need a doctor? I mean, do you want me to call someone?"

"No...Jim...I've called a doctor. The clinic. I've called the clinic." Olivia searched his face for any hint that he might be catching on. But she couldn't read his expression.

"Wh--you mean... " Olivia nodded. "Oh, my God…Look, if you're doing this because you think you have to...I mean…I'm…I can…I've always planned on…I'm here."

"Yeah, see…I'm sorry, but having a…it just really isn't the best thing for me, not right now. My lifestyle just couldn't handle it."

"I understand. It's your decision. But if you have second thoughts, or if you need help, I just want you to know I'm here. Look, Olivia, I like you. A lot. I want to help you out. I know how corny that sounds, but it's true. With…this…just, anything you need, call me. I'll go with you if you want. Anything." He briefly covered her hand with his.

She watched his face, which contained a degree of sadness beyond the concern his words expressed.

"Thanks, that's really sweet. Are you…are you okay?"

"Yeah, it's just…I don't want you to put yourself in the position to have to undergo this…I mean, obviously if it's the best thing for you, but there's another option. I did help create this, you know; it's my responsibility too, and…you shouldn't have to deal with this alone. My mom did, and I saw the toll it took on her."

Olivia nodded, understanding, but with slight unease. She wanted to deal with this on her own. She had thought she could shake this guy earlier in the conversation, but she couldn't…and did she want to? Well, maybe not under other circumstances. But she was carrying this guy's baby. _She_ was carrying. And she wanted no interference here.

Odafin Tutuola, John Munch, and Elliot were sitting around the squadroom, filling out paperwork; Cragen was on the phone in his office; and Olivia, surprisingly, had not arrived yet. Sometimes her colleagues even suspected she lived full-time at the precinct.

So they all looked up when she walked through the door, appearing cheerful. But by this point all three of them knew her well enough to tell that it was forced.

"Morning."

They acknowledged her with a nod as she sat down at her desk across from Elliot. As she pulled papers out of her desk drawer, she asked, "Any new developments on the Mandolin case?"

"Well, his attorney claims that we all brutalized him, so we're buried in paperwork." Munch replied.

"What happened, we bruise his wrists with the cuffs?"

"Yeah, and our malingering friend might have sustained emotional trauma induced by the, uh, stress of the interrogation…" he glanced at Elliot, who looked at the ceiling innocently, and Olivia stifled a laugh.

As Olivia absorbed herself in her share of the paperwork, she didn't notice Munch pondering her for a moment.

After about half an hour, Cragen came out of his office. "Benson, Stabler, we've got a lead on the Nelson case." He gave them the address. "Get down there."

As Olivia stood up and walked past Munch's desk on her way out, she heard him say quietly, "If you need to talk…" She didn't respond, but he knew she'd heard. He watched her retreating back until she was out the door, then turned back to his work.

So….what did you think? Love it? Hate it? Display total apathy towards it? As always, we want to know. So click on that little purplish box. Now! The power of fanfiction compels you!

Love and Kisses,

Jill and Ella


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This chapter is short, but it's 3 a.m., and…yeah. But…we like it. So enjoy! And please, review review review!

* * *

Elliot kept his eyes on the road as he said, "So?"

"What?" she replied, knowing perfectly well what he meant.

He said nothing, merely grunted.

At the next red light he looked over, and they made eye contact for an instant. Olivia looked at her feet. She could feel his eyes on her.

"He's a nice guy," she said, in answer to his silent question.

He said nothing. She knew what he was doing, forcing her to talk, leaving silences that she would need to fill.

"I told him. I couldn't help it. He…I thought he needed to know. Now I'm worried he might interfere." Elliot nodded. Olivia found herself annoyed. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing," she said, trying to stop herself. "I mean, it's not like I haven't seen these same interrogation tactics a hundred times. I'm not dumb, Elliot."

Elliot glanced over at her, half smiling. "Liv…"

"I'm not one of your kids!" She was yelling by now. "I mean, have I ever once patronized _you_? Just because I'm--" She finally managed to shut herself up, as she massaged her forehead.

He watched her with concern in his eyes. "Hey."

She looked up and over. Their eyes met, and they needed no spoken words. Sometimes it gets that way when you've worked together for seven years.

As he watched her, Elliot sensed Olivia's customary independence and defiance of anyone who tried to control her. But he also read anxiety, indecision, worry about the future. He knew she feared the situation would get out of her control.

In return, Olivia saw his concern for her. She could tell that even though he was deeply troubled by his own personal life, he still cared about hers. She knew she could trust him, and count on his support. But she also saw that she owed him hers as well.

"How're things with you?" she asked.

He smiled, and the smile was bittersweet. The bitterness came from the true state of his personal life. But he was touched by her concern for him, even now. Elliot felt no need to reply; she already knew.

They drove on in silence.

* * *

So? Hope you liked it! Now review! REVIEW! Please?

Love and Kisses,

Ella and Jill


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Hello people! We're sorry we haven't updated in awhile, but we've been busy. Once again we'll take this opportunity to beg you to review! Come on, your opinions are really valuable to us and to our writing. So enjoy this chapter, but make sure to take thirty seconds (or more!) out of your day once you're finished to tell us what you think.

P.S.: All questions will be answered before this fic is finished, so please have patience and refrain from asking questions about parts of the plot that we obviously haven't finished yet. (Is Olivia going to keep the baby, etc. etc.)

P.P.S.: For the love of God, please review:-D Enjoy!

* * *

Captain Cragen, Dr. Huang, Detective Benson, Detective Stabler, and Casey Novak stood outside the two-way mirror, watching their suspect. This Horace guy was scum. Putting this piece of insert profanity here behind bars should have been a lot easier than it had been. Apparently even scum could get a good lawyer. This one had Casey up to her neck in paperwork, spending every spare minute in chambers arguing with him. They would need a confession, and that was going to be next to impossible with this inconveniently intelligent imbecile sitting there whispering to him.

"I hate lawyers," Elliot muttered.

Casey glanced at him.

"So what d'you suggest?" Detective Stabler turned to Dr. Huang.

"Well, he's threatened by men. In his mind, women are inferior so they pose less of a threat." Olivia rolled her eyes. _What an ass, he'll find out who's inferior. _"Olivia, it might be best if you went in alone. If he feels threatened by a woman he might break. He'll want to prove his manhood."

Olivia walked in. A scruffy-looking Horace sat beside a clean-cut attorney. Olivia walked up to Horace, and crouched down so they were nose to nose. "Raping a drugged defenseless woman make you feel like a big man?" she taunted.

Horace opened his mouth to talk, but his lawyer cut him off. "Don't say anything." The suspect flashed Olivia his best smile. "I think you've got your facts wrong, sweetheart."

Through clenched teeth, Olivia persisted, "You're probably right. I mean, a big guy like you wouldn't have to drug a woman. A guy your size would be able to hold her down."

The lawyer continued his mantra. "Don't say anything. Don't say anything."

"A guy like you? Nah, you don't need drugs." She was satisfied to see a vein pulsing in this guy's neck. She was getting to him. "A poor, weak woman?" She shoved her face up close, staring him straight in the eyes. "Never."

He was out of his chair, overturning the table. His fist flew at her, and she ducked, and shoved him against the wall. "You son of a bitch." He spat in her face as she pinned him to the wall.

Outside the glass, the stunned onlookers thought to intervene. Just as Stabler and Cragen were about to run in, they heard something that stopped them for a second.

"I'll kill you just like I killed her, bitch. You want a play by play? I drugged her, raped her, and stabbed her in the chest." They ran in, noting, not without some humor, that the attorney was unconscious on the floor. Apparently he had sustained a blow to the head when Horace had stood up and knocked the table over. Olivia still had Horace pinned, and Cragen and Stabler had to drag her away.

As Elliot restrained Horace and Casey called for paramedics on her cell phone, help rushed to the scene, and Cragen was able to motion Olivia after him into his office. Casey and Huang exchanged a glance as they watched them walk away.

* * *

After he had entrusted immediate care of the situation to other hands, Elliot caught Olivia as she exited Cragen's office.

"You tell him?"

"Yeah."

Elliot waited.

"He said to keep working if I had to, but take it easy."

"Right."

* * *

As they watched Horace's attorney being carried out on a stretcher, Casey looked at Huang.

"What just happened?"

He gazed, pensive, at Cragen's office door, then glanced back at her without a word.

* * *

Olivia grabbed the purse sitting on her bed. It was almost over. Soon her nightmare would end. She was a cab ride away from freedom, but the thought of what she had to do to achieve it offered little comfort.

* * *

Jim Owens took a deep breath and dialed her number.

* * *

Hope you liked it, now REVIEW!

Love and Kisses,

Jill and Ella


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Hi everybody! We're back with Chapter 6. This one's a little longer than we've been writing and we feel pretty good about it, so we hope you enjoy.

P.S.: Uh, we read the end of Chapter 5 again before we wrote this and wondered what we'd been smoking. Thus the end of Chapter 5 has been removed and this is much more in character, we feel. 

Enjoy!

* * *

The phone rang.

_Don't answer it. Not now. It's almost over._

She wavered for a second. With the second ring her resolve broke.

_Damn these hormones._ "Hello?"

"Olivia?"

It was him.

"Oh, hi, Jim. Listen, now's not really a good time, I was just on my way out. Can I call you back-"

"You're going to the clinic, aren't you?"

_Whoa. Careful, Olivia._ "Well, actually…yes. I was."

There was a pause.

"You don't need to do this, Olivia. My lifestyle can support a child. I can take it and you never need to hear from either of us again. I promise."

"Jim…"

"No, hear me out. This is my responsibility too. Don't feel like you have no other options. One of them's talking to you right now! I feel like a terrible person to let you do this."

"Jim, you're not a terrible person for letting me do what I need to do!"

"But you _don't _need to do it, that's what I'm trying to tell you!"

"_Yes_, Jim, I do."

"Stay there. I'm coming over."

There was a click, and then a dial tone. Olivia hung up the phone in exasperation, grabbed her purse, and made for the door.

Then stopped.

Then shook her head at her own ridiculousness and grabbed the doorknob.

Then turned around and stared at the wall without seeing it. Every nerve and muscle in her body was screaming, _Leave! Leave now! Don't complicate things!_

She didn't move. Her hand compulsively clutched the strap of her purse as her mind wrestled indecision.

* * *

With almost feverish intensity, Jim Owens raced out of his apartment, nearly forgot to lock it, hurtled down the steps of his apartment building, and stumbled out onto the street, while trying to hail a cab. Shouldn't he just forget it? She obviously didn't want or need him there. And he sure as hell didn't want to be there. Or did he? It was his responsibility and he would not shy away from it. _He_ was not his father. He stepped into the cab.

"Where to, mister?"

"Uh…" Jim struggled through the drunken memories of that night, trying to remember where Olivia's apartment was. Having a sudden epiphany, he gave the driver the address and added, "Step on it." He'd always wanted to say that.

* * *

Jim knocked on the apartment door.

"It's open." Her tone was unreadable. He walked in to find her sitting on the couch, her posture also inscrutable.

"Jim."

"Olivia."

"Look, um- I'm already late, so I don't really have time to discuss this. But really, it's not a big deal. Honestly, I just want this over." Olivia's tone crossed the border between patient and annoyed. "And you can't just swoop in and complicate things, dammit!"

"I don't mean to complicate things…it's just…well, whether I stay or go things are gonna be complicated now. And…I don't want to make things harder for you…but you have to understand that this…this affects me too. So of course, not only do you not have to do this alone, you can't."

"Don't tell me what I can't do," Olivia said, going for the door.

"You're right. I'm sorry. It's your choice…just…please."

"I'm not sure what you're getting at."

"I know I'm not making much sense. It's just…" Jim Owens sat down and put his head in his hands.

Reluctantly, Olivia crossed behind him and put her hand on his shoulder. "I've made this choice, Jim. What can I do?"

She'd given him an opening. "You can let me take it. I'll raise it by myself; you never need to think about either of us ever again."

"But do you know what doing this at all would mean for me in the short term? I can't do it."

"I know. But I can't not ask you."

She didn't say anything.

"But…whatever happens now, I don't have any regrets. And I still like you. A lot."

Just as Olivia was searching her brain to find something to say to _that_, there was a knock. Automatically she yelled, "Who is it?"

"It's me," she heard her partner's voice say.

"It's open."

The doorknob turned and Elliot stepped into the room, saying, "I was just in the neighborhood-"

He stopped short, not sure what he was seeing. An unfamiliar man about his age in jeans and a blue button-down was sitting in one of Olivia's chairs. She sat on the couch, looking slightly uncomfortable, and it seemed as if she just been about to go out. Elliot looked between them for a second, and suddenly it hit him who this must be.

The man who was the father of his partner's unborn child looked quizzically at her. Her eyes had locked with Elliot's. Snapping out of it, she said, "Uh, Jim, this is my partner, Detective Elliot Stabler. Elliot, this is Jim Owens, a…friend of mine."

Jim stood and moved over to shake Elliot's hand. "How's it going?"

"Hanging in there." He looked at his partner. "This a bad time?"

"No, no, it's fine."

"Well, I just dropped by to say hello. So, hello. I'll get out of here."

She stared at him, reproachful, knowing he had come to check in on her. He gave her a guilty grin. "See you."

Olivia followed him to the door. "Hey, thanks," she said in a low voice. He nodded once and shut the door.

Jim was watching her. "So he knows, huh?"

Exasperated, Olivia thought about taking a page out of Munch's book and making herself a tinfoil hat to stop everyone reading her mind.

"Yes, he knows."

"Is there…uh, is there anything…going on…between you?"

"Oh, God, no. We both have too many issues." She looked at the clock. "Oh, shit, I missed my appointment. Now I'll have to…"

She trailed off as they stared at each other. She didn't know _what_ she had to do. And that was precisely the problem.

Keeping it would turn her life upside down. She couldn't let the rhythms of her life be interrupted. And how could she be a good mother if she worked all the time?

_Elliot has kids,_ a voice in the back of her head said.

_And Kathy could argue he's not a very good father,_ another voice responded.

_But _I _don't think that._

_We're different people. It might not work for me._

_But how will I ever know if I don't try? Could this be my only chance to be happy? I've been working at this job for so long and so hard it's become my entire life. What would it be like to have a life outside work again?_

_It didn't work too well for Elliot._

_But Kathy and Jim aren't the same person any more than Elliot and I are._

_Jim…_

Jim was watching her stare off into the distance, aware that she was probably experiencing a fierce inner debate. His inner voices weren't exactly quiet themselves at this point.

_You've got to let her go. This is her life, her body._

_But I'm partially responsible! I can't leave her with that burden._

_She wants to be left with that burden! You're pushing her too hard. Back off._

_I can't._

She said, "Jim, I-" and simultaneously he started, "Olivia, I-"

They chuckled awkwardly.

"You go first," he said.

* * *

So? Hope you liked it! As always, that small purplish box is waiting for your click. It's your turn; let us know what you think.

Love and kisses,

Jill and Ella


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